by Maggie Marks
She thinks fighting is okay, he told himself, if you fight to save someone you love.
He reached for his helmet, which was enchanted with Respiration. It was time to dive toward the monument, where guardians lurked in the shadows.
Asher would be in danger again down there. But I’ll be right beside him, Mason thought. I’ll fight if I have to.
CHAPTER 11
“We’re running low on splash potion of healing,” Luna said as she held up the bottle to the moonlight. “Just enough left to handle one more of Asher’s, um, adventures.” She shot Asher a glance.
“Well, that’s why we’re looking for gold in the ocean monument,” Mason reminded her. “So Ms. Beacon can make more glistering melon.” He patted the melon at his feet and looked up at Ms. Beacon. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but she wasn’t scowling either. That’s progress, I guess, he told himself.
Luna pulled the other glass bottles from her backpack. “Potions of water breathing, swiftness, and night vision. We’ll have to try to make all three of them last,” she said with a sigh. “Oh, and then we have this.” She held up a bottle holding a bit of purple liquid.
“Potion of the turtle master?” Mason asked, remembering.
She nodded. “But I suppose you and Asher don’t want any of that,” she said. “Since it’ll just slow you down.”
Mason winced, remembering how he had tried to impress Ms. Beacon by dismissing the potion. “Sometimes slowing down is a good thing. Right, Asher?” He nudged his brother.
“Ouch! What? Oh, yeah—I mean, I guess.” Asher was barely listening. He fingered the zipper on his own backpack, looking as guilty as a wolf-dog that had just chewed up its master’s leather armor. But why?
Then Mason remembered: Asher was hiding the remains of a potion in his pack—potion of invisibility. Would Luna notice it was missing from her own stash?
She didn’t seem to. She had already started packing up her potions. “We’ll stick with potions of water breathing and night vision for now,” she decided. “We’ll save potion of swiftness for later, if we need it. Slow and steady wins the race, right?” She passed one of the bottles to Asher and the other to Ms. Beacon.
As Mason waited for his turn with the potions, he stared over the edge of the boat. In the light of the moon, the prismarine monument below seemed to glow. Something flitted past one of the pillars. Was it a squid? He leaned forward for a better look.
Turtles! Three or four of them were swimming past the monument. Mason expected them to keep going, straight toward the beach where Uncle Bart’s ship had wrecked—the beach where they would lay their eggs. Instead, they turned and swam back toward the boat.
“They’re pacing,” Asher said, who had noticed the turtles too. “Just like you when you get nervous.” He gave Mason a lopsided smile.
“They kind of are,” Mason agreed. But why? As he watched, the turtles swam back and forth, back and forth, as if trapped in an invisible glass dome.
When Asher handed him the potions, Mason quickly drank, but he barely tasted the liquid. Something’s wrong down there, he couldn’t help thinking. Something bad is going to happen. He stood and shook out his hands, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.
Asher jumped to his feet. “Time to go?” he asked eagerly.
Mason shot him a look. “Yes, but remember we’re looking for gold, not for a battle,” he said firmly. “Got it?”
Asher shrugged. “Yeah, got it.”
Ms. Beacon stood too, gathering her robes. In the moonlight, Mason once again saw the smile in her eyes. Then, with a splash, the mysterious woman dove overboard.
“Let’s go,” said Luna, quickly following. She sat on the edge of the boat and leaned backward, dropping in headfirst.
Asher did a crazy leap from the back of the boat. Then Mason was alone. He inhaled deeply, taking his last breath of real air, and slid slowly over the edge of the boat.
His backpack felt lighter now—without the watermelon, and with the buoyancy of the water helping the pack float. The cool water cloaked him in darkness until the potion of night vision took effect.
Mason studied the underwater world. He spotted Asher up ahead, keeping pace with Ms. Beacon. Mason gave a quick kick with his feet and stroked the water until he finally caught up.
As they passed the “pacing” turtles, he felt it again—the sense that something was wrong. Goosebumps sprang up along his arms and legs. Why wouldn’t the turtles swim past the monument? What was stopping them?
While Mason watched, the turtles suddenly darted toward the monument and disappeared through a window. Then he saw why.
Shadows lurked below. Eerie blue eyes glowed, staring up from the depths of the ocean floor. Then something whizzed through the water, inches away from Mason’s shoulder. A trident struck the prismarine wall of the ocean monument. Mason could almost feel the impact. The trident quivered to a stop.
Then his brain caught up. The trident had been thrown by a drowned, an underwater zombie. The drowned were attacking!
Had Asher and the others seen them yet? No—they were still swimming. Stop! Mason wanted to call after them. But underwater, he had no voice.
He grabbed his trident, ready to fight—but he didn’t pull it from its sheath. Do we fight this time? he wondered. Or do we hide? He had only a second to decide. He glanced again at the window where the sea turtles had disappeared, and found his answer. He had to lead the others into the monument—they’d be safe inside.
With a burst of speed, he shot past Asher and held up his hand to stop him. He waved to get Luna’s attention, too. But Ms. Beacon was too far ahead.
Mason pointed toward the window. Follow me!
Asher’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, but he followed. Luna trailed close behind. From the safety of the prismarine-walled room, Mason waited for Ms. Beacon to glide in too. Would she appear at any moment? Or . . . would a drowned follow them in?
He raised his trident, just in case. As a few turtles passed overhead, the water around Mason gently rippled. But nothing came through the window.
He blew out a breath and allowed his body to relax. The drowned must have sunk back down to the ocean’s bottom. But if we go back out, they’ll come after us again, he knew.
The turtles must have known it, too. They paddled in great circles around the room, sometimes slipping out the door and swimming down the hall before coming back. How will they get back to their home beach? Mason wondered. Where will they lay their eggs?
He turned toward Luna. She would know what to do—about Ms. Beacon, and about the turtles. Luna chewed her lip, as if deep in thought. Then she patted her backpack—where she kept the potion ingredients they had already gathered—and waved them down the hall.
We’re going for gold, Mason realized. We’re going to get what we came here for, with or without Ms. Beacon.
But as he followed Luna out of the room, his sense of dread returned. The drowned were outside the monument, but other hostile mobs lurked inside. As he turned each corner, swimming from a square prismarine room to a long narrow one lit with sea lanterns, he kept a lookout for guardians.
Luna led them deep inside the monument, where Mason knew they would find the treasure chamber. With each room they passed, Asher sped up, jockeying with Luna for the lead. Asher could sniff out treasure the way a wolf could sniff out skeleton bones. And by the look on his face, Mason knew they were getting close.
Slow down! he wanted to call to Asher. Pay attention! Be safe!
But Asher had taken the lead now. He rounded a corner and disappeared.
Mason pushed past Luna, desperate to keep an eye on his brother. The hall ahead was empty. Which room had Asher gone into?
Mason shot through the first doorway, scanning the room for Asher. He searched the shadowy corners on either side of a prismarine pillar and saw nothing. But as he turned to leave, something slowly glided out from behind the pillar and stared across the room with a single eye.
Mason
’s fingers quivered, itching to grab his trident. But if he fought, the guardian would fight back. And I’ll be putting Asher and Luna in danger, he realized. Instead, he flattened himself against the wall, hoping the guardian hadn’t yet seen him.
The hostile mob hovered, round and spiky as a pufferfish but so much larger. Mason’s heart thudded in his ears. Don’t move! he reminded himself. Don’t even breathe!
After what felt like hours, the guardian sank slowly back to the floor of the room. Mason made his move, unfreezing his limbs and pulling himself through the doorway out into the hall.
Luna was waiting for him there. She flashed a grin and pointed through a doorway across the hall. Mason could see his brother, hovering in front of a wall of dark prismarine. The blocks formed a giant plus sign, lit by sea lanterns in all four corners.
As Mason swam into the room, he saw part of the plus sign had been chipped away, exposing something shiny beneath. He sucked in a mouthful of water.
Gold. Asher had found an entire wall of gold!
CHAPTER 12
While Asher mined the gold with his pickaxe, Mason stood guard, wishing he had an axe, too. Luna fumbled around in her backpack and pulled out her potion bottles. But they looked nearly empty. She offered one to Mason.
He waved his hand to say, I’m good. Between the potion of water breathing and his helmet enchanted with Respiration, he could last a while longer.
When Luna offered the potions to Asher, he quickly waved them away, too. But worry niggled at the back of Mason’s mind. His brother was so crazed by the treasure he’d found, he wouldn’t stop long enough to drink potions—even if he needed them.
We have to hurry, Mason thought. We have to get out of here before Asher gets in trouble again. Before we all do.
His mind flashed to Ms. Beacon. Why hadn’t she returned? Was she in the monument somewhere? Was she in danger? He fought down the panic rising in his throat.
Ms. Beacon is strong. She can fend for herself, he decided. Right now, I have to take care of Asher.
Great chunks of gold littered the floor—blocks that were too big to carry. Asher whacked at them with his axe, breaking them into smaller gold ingots. Luna scooped up several ingots and loaded them into her pack. Then she held up a hand to tell Asher to stop. We have enough, she seemed to be saying. It’s time to go.
Asher’s face fell, but he finally lowered his axe. He scooped up a few gold bars of his own as he swam from the room. Then he gave Mason a thumbs-up and darted down the hall after Luna.
Mason wondered whether she would lead them out the nearest window, straight up to the boat. Instead, she led them back the way they had come.
The turtles were still circling the prismarine room, except now, there were more of them. As Luna swam toward the window, she hesitated and looked back at the turtles.
I’m worried about them, too, Mason wanted to say. He shrugged his shoulders. What can we do?
Before Luna could respond, someone appeared in the window behind her. Ms. Beacon! She pushed her way into the room, pulling her robes behind her. Then she held up a hand, as if to say, Don’t you dare swim out that window.
A trickle of dread ran down Mason’s spine. The drowned were still out there—he could see it in Ms. Beacon’s eyes. That means we’re not safe, he realized. And the turtles aren’t either.
Ms. Beacon reached for the pickaxe in Asher’s hand. She crossed the room and began to whack at the wall, pulling out turquoise blocks and letting them float to the floor.
Mason locked eyes with Luna. What was the old woman doing? Mining prismarine, at a time like this?
But soon Ms. Beacon broke free to the watery world outside the monument. As soon as she had created a window, she reached into her robes and pulled out a handful of something green.
Kelp? Mason wondered. No, sea grass!
Ms. Beacon waved the grass side to side, luring the closest turtle toward the window. In an instant, Mason knew what she was doing. She’s trying to show them another way, he realized. A safer path home. But would the turtles follow?
When the first turtle approached the sea grass, Mason pumped his fist in the water. Yes! Ms. Beacon led the turtle right through the window, and a steady stream of other turtles followed. When all the turtles had left the room, Luna waved Mason and Asher out, too.
As Mason hurried out the window after his brother, he glanced down. Somewhere at the ocean’s floor, the drowned still lurked. Will the turtles get home without being attacked? he wondered. Will we?
He focused his eyes straight ahead on Ms. Beacon, who led the turtle parade. As they left the prismarine monument behind, the landscape gave way to kelp fields and sloping sandstone. Soon, the turtles passed Ms. Beacon, swimming faster and faster now that they had a straight shot toward home.
She stopped swimming. In the glow of a nearby sea lantern, she looked young—and very happy. She lifted a hand to wave goodbye to the turtles.
Then Mason saw something rise behind her.
The drowned let out an eerie growl that chilled Mason to the bone. It echoed throughout the ocean floor, sending the turtles off course. As they veered left toward the craggy opening of a sea cave, Ms. Beacon watched them go.
Turn around! Mason wanted to cry. Watch out for the drowned!
In the next instant, Ms. Beacon pulled her trident, ready to fight. She slashed at the drowned with her trident, only enough to knock it backward. Then she took off after the turtles, like a mother wolf protecting her pups.
But more mobs staggered up from the ocean floor. They lurched forward in their tattered brown robes, their mottled green arms reaching for prey.
Asher saw the mobs, too. He drew his pickaxe, as if he were ready to take on the whole army of drowned.
“No!” Mason cried, the word bubbling from his mouth. He looked around for Luna, hoping she could help him lure Asher away from the hostile mobs.
Luna was swimming toward the sea cave behind Ms. Beacon. Mason gestured toward her, as if to say to Asher, Follow Luna!
But Asher swam the other way. Mason caught a glimpse of his brother’s face as he passed. Asher’s jaw was clenched, his brow furrowed.
Asher was ready to fight.
CHAPTER 13
Asher reached the first drowned in a flash.
As Mason stroked the water, desperate to catch up, Asher whacked the drowned with his pickaxe. Thwack! The drowned grunted and staggered backward. But three more rose to take its place, moving together like the limbs of a writhing green beast.
Asher stepped forward, his axe overhead.
Stop! Mason wanted to cry. Luna and Ms. Beacon were too far away—they couldn’t help. It’s just us, he thought, his stomach squeezing. This isn’t the time to fight!
As another drowned approached, Asher swung and struck. The drowned growled and thrashed side to side, knocking the axe from Asher’s hands. It bounced along the ocean floor.
No! Mason felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. With a swift kick, he dove in front of his brother—just as the drowned lurched forward again. Mason swung his trident with every ounce of strength he could muster. Thwack!
When the mob stumbled and fell, Mason took another shot. Thwack! Thwack, thwack! He battled the beast until it lay still. Then he climbed over the steaming pile of rotten flesh and grabbed Asher’s pickaxe from the ground.
More drowned crept forward, their eyes piercing the dark water. But instead of giving Asher his axe, Mason hung on to it, waving his brother upward. We’re done fighting, he told him with a fierce look. It’s time to go.
To Mason’s relief, his brother followed. Without his weapon, Asher seemed to have lost his fight. He kicked his legs and swam straight up to safety.
But Ms. Beacon and Luna weren’t there.
Mason spun around, trying to remember which way they had gone. Then he saw the jagged opening to the sea cave. When he was sure Asher was following, he took off for the dark gaping hole.
The first thing Mason saw inside the c
ave were the turtles, circling the water. But where were Luna and Ms. Beacon? He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, waiting for them to adjust to the darkness of the cave. But the potion of night vision had worn off long ago. And the potion of water breathing will too, he thought with a twinge of fear.
He followed the turtles in their circular swim, hoping it would lead to Luna and her bag of potions. After a lap around the cave, Mason was nearly ready to give up. Then he saw a pair of legs dangling in the water ahead, glowing purple with the Depth Strider enchantment. Luna! He surfaced beside her, inhaling a sweet breath of fresh air.
Luna sat on a narrow ledge, examining her potions. As Mason pulled himself out of the water beside her, his shoulders shook with the effort. He laid his pack and his weapons on the ledge and then reached down to help Asher up.
Asher immediately reached for his pickaxe, shooting Mason a resentful look. “Why’d you take it?” he asked.
“Because,” said Mason, “you’re always looking for a fight. We didn’t need to fight the drowned. Ms. Beacon and the turtles were already safe. But you put yourself in danger, and you put me in danger, too.”
Asher’s face fell. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You just need to slow down and think,” said Mason, choosing his words carefully. “Count to ten, like Uncle Bart taught us. Count to ten before you do something dangerous.”
Asher nodded, but he wouldn’t look up.
Mason glanced around. “Where’s Ms. Beacon?” he asked.
Luna sighed. “She’s trying to find another way out of the cave. A way for the turtles to get home safely without running into more drowned. But if she can’t find one, we’re going to have to make one.”
Asher cocked his head. “Like with TNT?” he asked.
“No!” Luna said. “More like with your pickaxe. Tunneling out slowly is safer.”
Asher’s face fell, as if he thought he was being scolded again.
“It’s like Ms. Beacon did in the monument,” Mason said, catching his brother’s eye. “Mining through the wall to make a back door.”
